“Give Him That Chance” – MLB Fans Urge the St. Louis Cardinals to Sign a Former Cy Young Winner

It started the way so many baseball movements do these days — not with a press release or a leak from a front office, but with a sentence typed in frustration and hope:
“Give him that chance.”

One comment turned into dozens. Dozens turned into threads. And suddenly, across social media and late-night radio shows, fans were speaking with one voice, urging the St. Louis Cardinals to do something bold, something risky, something deeply human: sign a former Cy Young winner who no longer looks like a sure thing.

This isn’t about nostalgia.
It’s about belief.

The Cardinals sit in a familiar but uncomfortable place. Not terrible. Not great. A team with history on its shoulders and uncertainty in its rotation. Fans have watched too many seasons slip away not because of a lack of effort, but because the pitching never quite held together. And now, staring at another winter of half-measures, many are asking the same question:

Why not take a chance on someone who’s already climbed the mountain?

The former Cy Young winner at the center of this conversation carries scars — physical ones, statistical ones, emotional ones. He isn’t the ace he once was, at least not on paper. The velocity has dipped. The command has wavered. The dominance comes in flashes instead of floods. And yet, there’s something fans can’t shake: the memory of who he was and the possibility of who he might still be.

Baseball fans, for all their love of analytics, have always believed in redemption stories. In second acts. In the idea that experience, humility, and hunger can sometimes outweigh raw numbers. And this pitcher has all three. He’s been humbled. He’s been doubted. He’s been counted out.

But he’s also been great.

That matters in St. Louis, a city that respects effort and understands resilience. Cardinals fans know that not every championship comes from pristine planning. Some come from risk. From trust. From seeing something others have decided to ignore.

“Give him that chance,” they say — not because it’s safe, but because it feels right.

The argument isn’t emotional blindness. Fans aren’t pretending he’s still a Cy Young favorite. They’re asking for something far simpler: a short-term deal, a low-risk commitment, an opportunity for the pitcher to prove he still belongs. In a rotation filled with questions, why not add someone who’s already faced the biggest moments imaginable?

What’s the worst that happens?
He doesn’t rediscover it, and the Cardinals move on.
What’s the best?
They unlock something no spreadsheet predicted.

Inside the clubhouse, a pitcher like this would bring more than innings. He’d bring perspective. A calming presence. The quiet authority of someone who’s stood on the mound with an entire season hanging in the balance and survived. Young pitchers listen to voices like that. Veterans respect them.

And maybe — just maybe — the game gives something back.

Baseball has always been cruel to those who chase the past, but kind to those who respect it without clinging to it. This wouldn’t be about reliving glory days. It would be about honoring the idea that greatness doesn’t evaporate overnight — it fades, it adapts, it transforms.

Fans aren’t demanding a miracle. They’re asking for courage. For the Cardinals to trust their pitching coaches, their culture, their ability to support a veteran trying to write one last meaningful chapter.

In a league obsessed with youth and velocity, there’s something refreshing about the idea of believing in wisdom. In giving a former Cy Young winner the dignity of one more chance — not as a savior, but as a competitor.

As the winter drags on, the calls will only get louder.
“Give him that chance.”
“Let him prove it.”
“What do we have to lose?”

Sometimes, the smartest move isn’t the safest one.
Sometimes, it’s the one that reminds everyone why they fell in love with baseball in the first place.

And if the Cardinals are listening — really listening — they might realize the fans aren’t asking for a gamble.

They’re asking for hope.